The Hartley Chronicles: MIA
by xRoflElz
Summary: Ashlyn Hartley is a CIA Agent tracking down Bourne's location and has the task of taking him out. But when her boss, Wilson, pulls the trigger on her three fellow Agents, claiming that they know too much about Blackbriar and Treadstone, she's launched into a world of running, hiding and fighting. Will she receive help when she needs it most? Full summary inside!
1. Prologue

**Summary: **Ashlyn Hartley is a CIA Agent tracking down Bourne's location and has the task of taking him out. But when her boss, Wilson, pulls the trigger on her three fellow Agents claiming that they know too much about Blackbriar and Treadstone, she's launched into a world of running, hiding and fighting. After escaping narrowly from Wilson, and knowing that he's looking for her, she decides that she needs to discover the truth. She needs to find Bourne. Will she learn to trust the man she was supposed to kill? Will he be honest? Will she survive?

**A/N: **This is my first fan fiction. I have no idea where I'm going with this so just bear with me! Reviews are appreciated, thanks for reading.

I own nothing apart from my OCs!

Enjoy!

Prologue

Darkness seemed to be the only thing that filled the room. The scarce light that managed to find its way in did little to illuminate the surroundings. Metal chains clinked in the distance, and a grimy tap that was leaking gave out the sound of rhythmic dripping every few seconds. The walls of the room were metal and rusty; they contained the heat like a giant oven and the floors were concrete with dark stains marked out on them. The only door into the room was made of thick iron and looked as if it belonged on the front of a safe. It was guarded by a large man that was armed with a small sawn-off shotgun which he held close to his chest. Around each side of the room stood men of a similar stature, each looking as if they were guarding and looking out for trouble.

In the center of the room sat four chairs, each waiting to be sat upon. A smaller guard stood to the side of these chairs with rope and a large knife. _He was certainly going to be tying people up._ In the room nobody spoke, the silence was enough to fill their ears for now, for they were focused on the job at hand, _guarding._ Each of the guards held a steady posture, holding their guns tightly and properly as if they were under inspection.

Suddenly, loud rumbles that were heavy thumping on the iron door broke the quietness in the room. The guard at the door sprang into action and quickly opened the door. A crowd of people streamed in; four guards holding hostages with brown coffee sacks made their way through lead by a man in a suit.

"Tie them up." The man ordered as he gestured two the hostages with one hand and checked his phone with the other. The guards nodded, and soon all four of them were trying the hostages up with thick rope. The four didn't cease to struggle at their bonds, groaning and panting. The guards stood back a few paces, awaiting further orders, though it was silent for a minute. Just the sound of clinks, dripping and groans filled the air. The man in the suit suddenly looked up from his phone and slid it into his suit pocket.

"Right then," he said turning to face the chairs. "Take the sacks off; let us see their glorious faces." The four guards stepped forwards and took of their sacks and revealed two men and two women.

Both men had muscular builds and were wearing similar clothing, cargo trousers, black boots and a simple black t-shirt that was stained with mud, blood and sweat. One man's face looked much younger than the other; he was the paler of the two. His brow was dripping with sweat and so was his nest of jet black colored hair. The older man had darker hair, his face more dirty and a small smear of blood ran down his cheek, his blue eyes stood out among his dirty face. He looked like he was in command of the four, whoever they were.

The women had strong builds too for women - they each had defined arm muscles and they looked like they could take down a few guards in the room just with their fists. One woman had short red hair that came down to her shoulders. Her pale skin was battered and bruised and she wore a black tank top with similar trousers and boots to the men. The other woman looked the youngest of the four – she had long brown hair tied up in a long plait that reached her middle. She had tanned skin, and her face was covered in dirt and a small cut on the right side of her forehead trickled out small streams of blood down her face. Her white tank top didn't was no longer white, her cargo trousers were ripped and her boots scuffed.

They all looked as if they had been through a bit of an ordeal.

"Well, well, well," the man in the suit started, an amused look upon his face. "I thought this day would never come, agents."

"You set us up," the leader of them spoke bravely. "You made a big mistake, Wilson." The man named Wilson simply laughed at this.

"Did I now? But who's going to help you and your little gang now? It was always going to be a one way road, Alex, that's the thing with these government 'things'," Wilson stopped for a minute and walked behind the four. "Your agents get to know too much, and it's the same story for you." Alex scowled at this.

"Wilson, I suspected you the day I walked into your office. I knew you were up to something and it wasn't all as it seemed."

"It's a shame you said yes to do my dirty work then, isn't it?" Wilson cackled as he made his way before them again. He turned his attention to the younger woman. "Ouch, what happened to you, Ashie?" Wilson reached out and roughly pushed her head back into a stream of light to examine a cut closer. Ashie let out a squeal of pain as Wilson gripped her face tightly and looked at it. "Well you're certainly going to need a plaster," he said as he released her head and let it roll forwards.

The red-head took the chance to spit at Wilson whilst he was so close. The look of disgust and fury washed upon Wilson's face as he turned to the woman.

"How dare you…" he growled behind gritted teeth as he wiped her saliva from his cheekbone. The woman simply smirked. She wouldn't let him do such a thing to her friend, and whilst he was so close she may as well take advantage of it.

"Cut the crap Wilson," the black haired man spoke out of nowhere, in an attempt to distract Wilson from what the red-haired woman had done to him. "Why did you betray us? Why decide now to kill us?"

"Oh James, you're so naïve," Wilson replied in a sarcastic voice. "I knew Alex suspected me from day one, from then on I knew that I'd one day have to kill you."

"But what about all we went through? The beers we had after work, conversations about our personal lives! Did they at all effect what you thought of us?" James fired back leaning as forward as he could go in his chair. Wilson tilted his head in thought for a moment before replying.

"No, not really," he sighed as he walked back and forth in front of them. "Because I knew that it would come to this. _You knew it._ You four are clever enough to have worked it all out in the end." James shook his head in disbelief.

"So what are you going to do with us then, boss? Kill us? Because I'd rather you'd do it now then later," The red haired fired up. "I hate being in your presence." Wilson laughed.

"Oh, Anna, believe me the pleasure is mine. And as for what I'm going to do with you, you guessed right. I am going to kill you." Anna smirked at this.

"I do not fear death, nor do I fear you." She replied, lifting her head defiantly. Anna would go down with a fight. Wilson tilted his head at her, and then continued.

"Well with that, shall we get on with it?" He pointed out his finger and aimed it at all four individuals. "How am I going to do this…" he asked himself. "Right, oldest first I think." He uttered out as his finger landed on Alex.

Alex's chest rose up at the thought of being killed in front of his men, though he did think that he should be killed first. Alex lifted his head high in anticipation, and he could feel everyone's eyes on him. He just wanted to know how he'd die. Wilson ordered he be released from his bonds and knelt in front of his men. Alex looked up at each and every one of them.

All of them were fighting back the emotions that were threatening to come pouring out at any moment. Alex listened to the cocking of a gun behind him, and felt it press at the back of his head firmly. Alex shut his eyes, waiting for death to come, trying to think of everything happy in his life. He thought of his friends and his family. He thought of home.

"Farewell, Alex West."

Bang.

* * *

Ashie's eyes were squeezed shut. Her ears rang at the sound of a gun-shot and shortly after she heard the thud of Alex's body fall to the floor. Slowly, she cautiously opened them and stole a look to the left of her where Anna was sitting.

Anna's face was expressionless; Ashie could not tell what she was thinking or feeling for that matter. Ashie guessed that it was out of defiance and respect for Alex. He wouldn't want anyone crying or showing any signs of weakness. Not in front of Wilson. Two guards came and lifted Alex's limp body from in front of the remaining three and dropped it in the corner of the room in the dark shadows where he couldn't be seen. Ashie was thankful for this.

"Now, who's next…?" Wilson trailed off, looking at his gun. He suddenly looked up and aimed his gun. "I believe it's you Anna." He merely whispered and tilted his head menacingly. Ashie's head darted to Anna's face, where she was met with her eyes. Anna forced out a smile and mouthed, _'I'm sorry'._

Ashie's eyes widened as another shot rang out, this time for Anna. Her blood splattered on Ashie's face and she watched as Anna's body fell limp in her chair, her face relax and her eyes look empty. Ashie stared for longer than she needed to. Her gaze was broken by the guards that were sent to get rid of Anna's body.

"Getting real now, isn't it Ashie?" Wilson taunted her. Ashie looked down at the floor in front of her. She accepted the fact that she wanted to die. Everything that she fought for and lived for was slowly disappearing, and soon there'd be nothing left to live for. She may as well die.

"Ashie…" she heard a croaky voice to her left and turned. James' blue eyes pierced into hers. "I'm sorry…" he spoke just above a whisper, his blue eyes turning remorseful. Ashie nodded and let a stray tear fall down her face, washing the dirt off with it as it fell.

"I forgot there's… tension… between you two," Wilson broke their silence. "That's a shame." Wilson wandered behind Ashie and whispered in her ear. _"You'd have made a cute couple."_ He sniggered as she tensed in her chair. Ashie scowled at his words. In the corner of her eye she could see James did the same before turning back to her.

"I don't want you to see Ashie… shut your eyes." James almost ordered, but she shook her head.

"I… James I can't." Ashie struggled out, her voice hoarse. She turned back to Wilson who had his gun aimed at James. She turned back to James who was looking at her.

"I'm so sorry Ashie, I'm so sorry, I-"

Another shot rang out and almost tore Ashie's ears apart. She tore her eyes away from James' body and looked up at Wilson's face. Ashie glared at him. He was responsible for all of this mess. He was the one that backstabbed them; he was encharge of their special unit assigned to catch a rouge CIA Agent, Jason Bourne. They'd tracked him down to India after months of hard work. Wilson just needed someone to do the dirty work, but they kept asking questions and soon found out about Blackbriar and Treadstone. Wilson had something to do with it and she knew deep down that Bourne was innocent. Sure, Ashie didn't not ever suspect him of being up to something, but she never imagined she'd end up where she was now.

Ashie's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a ringtone. She looked up from the floor to Wilson who answered his phone in one hand, gun ready in the other. She examined his gun; platinum plated with a tally of how many people he'd killed on it engraved on the side of it. Ashie frowned – he'd be able to add another four tallies on later.

"God dammit!" Wilson cried as he hung up on whoever was calling him. Ashie tilted her head waiting for an explanation for his sudden outburst. "Looks like I'm going to have more fun with you, Ashie." He snarled as he put away his gun and phone. "We're out of time, but we're going to have a lot more fun later, just you and me." Ashie didn't know whether to feel relieved of afraid of his words. She suddenly felt her arms drop loose and being hurled up by a guard and pushed forwards to follow Wilson.

"Get that door open now! Burn the bodies, and clear out!" Wilson ordered as he walked hurriedly through the door. Ashie stumbled behind him. She looked behind her for a chance to escape, but she had no luck. There were a group of guards following her, at least ten. She couldn't take that many down with no weapon.

"Keep moving!" A guard barked at her as he pushed her forwards. Ashie scowled at him before turning around to catch up with Wilson.

Soon she was walking quickly just behind his shoulder and she plucked up the courage to ask him a question.

"Where will you take me?" She squeaked out as they turned down another corridor. Ashie couldn't help but feel small and useless in front of him.

"We're getting out of here, that's for sure," He grumbled as he turned through another door and out into the open where the noise and wind from a helicopter was waiting. "And when we get out of here, that's when I'm going to kill you." He finished, a smirk playing on his face. Ashie couldn't help but feel a little afraid of what he would do to her.

She had to escape. She had to find help and tell everyone what Wilson is about. Ashie tried to think up a plan of escape but she had no luck. She had no idea where she was going to be taken, nor where she would be or what resources she could use to help her. Ashie frowned to herself. Her plans were usually made up in the moment of them happening. She guessed it would be the same with this situation too.

Ashie was shoved into the helicopter after Wilson had got in. She looked out into the bright daylight that surrounded her. She could see the countless numbers of men Wilson had at his fingertips, all fighting for his cause like ants. The helicopter started to rise into the air, giving Ashie a better view of where she was, and then she noticed it. She was near the sea. Ashie thanked the lord, and she hoped that her hasty plan would work and hopefully save her life. The helicopter turned and started flying low over near the shore of the sea. Ashie had to make her move now or never.

She took a deep breath in, and counted to three. _One, two, three._ Ashie dived from where she was sitting in the middle of the helicopter across from Wilson to the door of the helicopter. With all of her strength, she slid the door open again. Realizing what she was doing, Wilson grabbed her waist firmly with his hands, only to be met with a harsh elbow in the face from her, loosening his grip. With a squirm and another elbow, Ashie was free, and freedom was within her grasp. She turned back to Wilson who was furious.

"See you around." She said in a dark tone, and fell out of the helicopter backwards, hurtling towards the blue sea.


	2. Chapter 1

_Running. _Ashlyn ran up the shore of the beach she swam to and looked up. The familiar hum of helicopter rotors caught her attention as she examined the helicopter she had just jumped from. Just able to make out Wilson glaring out of the open door at her, she stood and watched him. Wilson reached for a pistol and aimed it at her. She gulped and started running for cover.

_Bang. Bang. Bang. _He was shooting at her. People and tourists began to run away, and she followed suit. Ashlyn ran in an un-straight line to put off his aim, but she knew it wouldn't work. _Splat. _She felt a sudden burning in her arm, then a dull throbbing pain. He'd hit her, but continued to shoot, and she continued to run. Wincing through the pain she finally reached a road that lead away from the beach and Wilson.

After a few minutes of running, she notices that Wilson isn't following her. She slows down to a walk and avoids eye contact with citizens looking wearily at her arm. The adrenaline must've hidden it, but now at a walking pace she was in agony. With a face contorted with pain, she made her way down an alley way next to a restaurant. She entered the side door and seemed to go un-noticed by the chefs in the kitchen – either they didn't notice her presence or they were too scared to confront her.

Ashlyn navigated to the restrooms and locked the door. She turned the cold tap on and washed her face and hands. Ashlyn then slowly looked up to face her reflection in a grubby and broken mirror.

She looked like hell – almost un-recognizable to any of her friends… except they were dead now. Salty, bitter tears started to fall silently down her battered face. Everything she ever knew had now been ripped away from her brutally, and she had to somehow figure out a way to survive.

Ashlyn glanced down at her arm. It was covered in blood and stung. Tenderly, she washed her wound with cold water, revealing a big graze. She was lucky, but it still hurt. Grabbing some toilet paper from a cubicle she wrapped it around her arm in a make-shift bandage until she could find a pharmacy. She couldn't risk going to a hospital – she didn't even know if the CIA knew what Wilson had done to her unit.

Washing her face one last time, Ashlyn decided she needed to formulate a plan of action. She was the only one left. No money, no phone, no weapon. Nobody would believe what had happened to her, and she had no idea what Wilson would say to the rest of the CIA. Ashlyn was a rookie to this job – the Bourne mission was her first proper task and to be fair it wasn't going as well as she had hoped.

She had learnt a lot about Bourne in the last few months. Ashlyn and her team had access to Top Secret files all about him, and even though she wasn't meant to judge, she didn't know why the CIA were hunting him down. He was confused and just wanted to know who he was. Ashlyn couldn't see a problem in that.

The sound of people thumping on the door broke Ashlyn out of her daze. She turned around to see an angry old Goan woman shouting at her in what she thought was Portuguese. Struggling for words, she managed to speak back to her.

"Sinto muito, senhora. Vou sair agora." Ashlyn made her way for the door but the woman stopped her, and to Ashlyn's surprise replied in broken English.

"You hurt, I help you." Not giving Ashlyn a chance to say no, she was whisked off up a set of hidden stairs that lead to an apartment on top of the restaurant. The woman sat Ashlyn down on a wooden chair and pulled one up for her too.

The apartment wasn't really furnished – there was a grungy sofa and more wooden chairs, tables and an old TV. The windows were barred up and only let a little amount of light in. They sat in the center of the room. Ashlyn started looking for exits. There were the stairs that she came up, a window to her right that looked like it could be easily broken and a corridor behind her. She tensed as the woman reached for her bandage on her wounded arm.

"I won't hurt you." She simply said. Ashlyn nodded and relaxed, letting the woman remove the bandage. The bleeding hadn't really stopped as she grunted in pain as dry blood was ripped off. The woman stood up and got a basin of lukewarm water and a scrap of linen and started to clean the cut again tenderly.

"How this happen?" She asked quietly. Ashlyn sighed as she thought whether she should tell the woman what really happened or not. She was probably going to be killed anyway within the next few days, and for some peculiar reason she felt safe around the woman too. Speaking slowly and clearly, Ashlyn spoke.

"I was being chased by a man. He shot me," with her free hand she gestured to her cut. "and I came here." The woman just nodded as she got up again and came back with what looked like some cream to keep the wound from getting infected.

"There's a man who's like you." The woman said as she gently applied the cream. Wincing, Ashlyn tilted her head at the woman.

"Who is he?" The woman shrugged and replied.

"I'm not sure. But he American, like you?"

"Yes, I'm American. Does he have black hair? A strong build?" Ashlyn probed for more information.

The woman nodded. "Yes. He quiet. I see him few times. Another man... not American came looking for him here." Ashlyn gulped. She knew who it was. Today an assassin was deployed to take out Bourne. They were only there to oversee things and clear up the mess if things did indeed get messy. The woman started to bandage up her arm.

"When did the man come here?" Ashlyn asked.

"Early today. He drove expensive car." The woman finished off the bandaging. "All done." Ashlyn stood upright.

"I need to find that man. He can… help me."

"I will help. I pack bag for you…" she trailed off as she went off around the apartment fetching things. She packed food and some spare medical supplies in a black backpack. She got a grey t-shirt and a baseball cap and handed them to Ashlyn. "To blend in…" She nodded encouragingly.

"Thank you." Ashlyn let a small smile grace her features as she pulled off her tank top. The woman helped her into the t-shirt with her arm injury. Ashlyn un-braided her hair and pulled the cap on over her head and put the back pack on. She headed for the stairs but stopped, and walked back to the woman.

"If anyone comes here looking for me, you tell them I was here," she reached under the t-shirt for her tags, and pulled one metal plate off and handed it to the woman. "You give them this and tell them what I told you. Do you understand?"

The woman nodded. "Boa sorte."

"Obrigado por sua ajuda, você foi muito gentil." Ashlyn replied as she bolted down the stairs and out of the restaurant. She started off wandering around the market places and busy streets, looking for anything or anyone that stood out. Ashlyn figured that if the assassin was going to ask around for Bourne then he'd most likely do it in a popular place.

Hours seemed to pass and the hot midday sun was beginning to tire Ashlyn out. She hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. She found a little café with tables outside and sat at one, just for a few minutes to gather her strength. That's when she noticed something. A man got out of a silver car and head into newsagents. This was her chance. Ashlyn stood upright and made her way to the newsagents. She took a deep breath as she entered.

He seemed to notice her straight away. He glared at her and she glared back like a rabbit in headlights. They stayed that way for a few moments before he made his move. He roughly pushed her outside the shop and mumbled something in her ear.

"You're supposed to be dead." His Russian accent drummed through her ears as her heart pounded against her chest.

"I'll help you, then you can finish the job." She bitterly replied, trying to keep up a tough exterior. She could practically hear the amusement in his voice.

"Have you seen him?" He asked her.

"No, but he's in the area." He turned and started to walk towards his car. Before he got in he turned to her and spoke in Russian.

"Было бы хорошо для вас, если я не увижу тебя снова."

And with that he drove off, making dust fly into the air and slowly disappear. Ashlyn smiled as she looked down at her hand. In it she held his phone. Now with some luck she'd be able to keep herself updated on any events for a few hours.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the long-ish wait. I had really bad writers block and I've been busy revising for exams I have coming up. I hope you all enjoyed this. I'm sorry it's a bit crap but it's the best i could do given that I only had an hour to write this! I could've done a lot better and in the future I may go back and edit it. Also, I'm sorry if any characters are OOC. I tried my best, but I wasn't able to access any Bourne films to see how Kirill (the assassin in this chapter!) acts, but I think I did alright. Again, I'm just seeing how this will pan out and I'm still not sure on where I'm going with this!

Reviews will be appreciated and I hope you all continue to read when I post more chapters!

_**Translations: **_

_**Sinto muito, senhora. Vou sair agora. -**__ I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll leave now._

_**Boa sorte. -**__ Good luck._

_**Obrigado por sua ajuda, você foi muito gentil. - **__Thanks for your help, you were very kind._

**_Было бы хорошо для вас, если я не увижу тебя снова. - _**_It would be good for you if I didn't see you again. _


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ashlyn's feet ached as she continued to walk aimlessly, looking for Bourne. She wondered if the assassin, who she'd worked out his name was Kirill by going through his phone, had found them yet. There hadn't been any disturbances in the market near the shore where she was wondering, so she guessed not.

Getting the phone out of her deep front pocket she opened up a text message which had details of his assignment. There was a picture of Bourne, who looked very young and had strong features. There was also a picture of a woman, Bourne's accomplice, however he wasn't ordered to kill her. Ashlyn sighed. She felt quite sorry for the woman that she had been dragged into all this – she probably knew nothing running alone and it'd be tough for her if Kirill was to kill Bourne.

Shoving the phone back into her pocket, she found herself on the beach again. Cautiously looking on the shore to see if any of Wilson's men looking for her, she spotted someone. Pulling down her cap and ducking into the shadows of a nearby market stall, she examined him. _It was Kirill._

Unsure if he had seen her, she followed his gaze and she found herself looking through the front window of a 4x4, and to her surprise, in it sat Jason Bourne. Ashlyn's heart seemed to stop, and he blood ran cold. Frozen to the spot, she jumped when she felt an arm violently tug her and force her to start walking quickly. She followed the strong muscular arm up until she looked up into Kirill's face. His face was emotionless, but determined.

"I can walk by myself by the way." She snarled at him, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but she failed. His grip only got tighter until she had to bite her lip to try and stop herself from crying out in pain. _She wouldn't let him get the satisfaction._ As they reached his car, he shoved her towards the passenger door, and rounded the car to the driver's seat. Ashlyn reluctantly got in, and before she could put on her seatbelt, the car jolted off and Kirill was beeping his horn at frightened pedestrians. Scanning the road, he suddenly spoke.

"Under the seat there's a gun and some ammo. You help me take down Bourne, I won't say a word about your escape." Without thinking about the consequences she reached under the seat and grasped the gun and ammo, then loaded it.

"Deal." She quietly mumbled as she realized she'd have to go against her word. She couldn't kill Bourne. She needed answers. That's the least she could do for Alex and the rest of her friends. At most she'd love to put a bullet in Wilson's head, but right now, to stop Kirill from killing her in a heartbeat, Ashlyn had to team up with him.

As Kirill navigated the streets, Ashlyn scanned for the 4x4 that Jason was driving away from them. Suddenly seeing them cross a junction, she alerted Kirill.

"Straight ahead there!" she shouted pointing. Kirill silently grumbled as he put the car into gear and drove after him. Winding down the streets, Ashlyn feared for the people on mopeds ahead of them – if Kirill went any faster, they would be like skittles down a bowling alley. Sharply turning left, Ashlyn jumped out of her skin when she saw the truck cut ahead of them, blocking their way; blocking their way to Bourne. Swerving the car to try and seek a way past the truck, Ashlyn stuck her head out of the passenger window, feeling the wind on her face.

"They're about one hundred meters ahead of us." She notified him as he continued swerving. They came to an abrupt stop as she saw dust the back end of the 4x4 going down a slim alleyway, getting away. 'He really should've chosen a better car' Ashlyn thought as they drove off again.

Skidding down the dirt roads for what seemed to be like hours, Kirill stopped the car and sprung out of it. Following suit, she saw him open the boot and get out a canvas back which he hung over his shoulder. Ashlyn presumed it was a sniper rifle. She grabbed her own back and slung it on her back along with the gun.

"Follow!" he commanded her. She followed, taking off into a sprint. She caught up with him quickly until they were running side by side. Ashlyn was always the best at running. Whether it was long distance or sprinting, she always seemed to perform well, and today was not an exception.

When they reached a busy highway, Ashlyn saw the familiar 4x4 speeding off into the distance to a bridge. Kirill suddenly darted across the busy traffic and sat beside a billboard and started setting up. Ashlyn gulped. This was it. Looking between Kirill and the 4x4 which was getting smaller and smaller by the second, Ashlyn took off in the direction of the bridge, leaving Kirill behind.

She stole a glance behind her and saw a van with iron railing on the outside starting to slowly overtake her. With her injured arm, she reached for the rails and pulled herself up. Grunting through the pain she found a place to rest her feet and looked ahead. She could see the 4x4 starting to go over the bridge. Ashlyn was getting closer she could even make out two figures in the car – Jason, except her wasn't in the driv-

The deafening shot ripped up her thought process and stunned her. Time slowed down completely; the 4x4 slowly drifted across the road until it crashed through the side of the bridge, and plunged down into the water below.

Letting go of the railings, Ashlyn tumbled to the ground, rolling over several times before coming to a stop. She gasped for air as she felt the pain in her arm and the rest of her body appear, and protest as she stumbled up. She looked in the direction of where she last saw Kirill. Ashlyn made out his figure pacing towards the bridge, then back down to the water where she saw air bubbles emerging from the submerging car.

Retracing back a bit, she slid down a ditch and onto the river bank, where she saw nobody had emerged from the water yet. She darted to a nearby shrub and hid under it, and from her back she withdrew her gun and cocked it. This was her chance.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry this is a bit crap! I've been sooooooo busy with revision and I felt like I needed to update as soon as I could! I think I really needed to get this part out of the way of the story so I could get on with the proper writing and discovering more of Ashyn's past, but for now, what are your opinions of her? I'd love to hear some more reviews from you all, it's great to hear feedback!

I'll try and update soon! This week I have two big exams so after those I'll have much more free time!

For now though, enjoy :D


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